


Dance Upon the Mountains Like a Flame

by st_aurafina



Category: Kushiel's Legacy - Jacqueline Carey
Genre: Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-07
Updated: 2012-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-29 03:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_aurafina/pseuds/st_aurafina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phèdre will not let this last night pass without celebration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance Upon the Mountains Like a Flame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



It was the last night I would spend on the island of the Third Sister, and the last that I would spend with Hyacinthe. I would not, with all my heart, spend it alone. In my chambers, decked with the treasures of a hundred shipwrecks, I chose carefully: amber silk, warm and rich as the light that dances over a candle. Hyacinthe would be the heart of this flame: blue-dark and opaque. Joscelin, fair as summer, would be the limned edge that dances in the night. I, the golden light that fills the room and brings the two together.

Joscelin jumped when I appeared at his doorway; he had been sitting by the window looking down on the sea. I held my hand out to him, and frowning, he took it, one hand at his back: an unconscious recognition of the formality of the situation. When he saw that I led him to Hyacinthe's door, he faltered.

"Phèdre," he said, with a warning tone. "What do you intend?"

I pressed my hand to his heart, felt the slow, steady beat of it quicken. "We cannot leave him, not without acknowledging who we are to each other." We were the stuff of tales, the three of us, and I would not let this last night go uncelebrated. Joscelin sighed, as he had done so many times before at my plans, and let me lead him forward.

Hyacinthe was dressed simply, and his face hollow and dark. There was still a touch of the _dromonde_ about him, I think, and to see him so drained broke my heart. He looked between the two of us, first in confusion and in alarm. "Phèdre, this is not right. I'm not one of your patrons."

I reached out, interlaced my fingers between his. "If it's easier to be angry, then be angry. But I will not leave you to be angry alone, not tonight."

He stood a moment, my hand in his, then he smiled, and the shadows fell away from his face. "Tell me, Phèdre, how much wine did you ply the Cassiline with to get him to step over the threshold?"

My Prince of Travelers: how I loved him for his courage and his endless joy despite the day that was coming. I turned to Joscelin, the last and most tenuous link in our chain of three. I held out my hand, but he ignored it. My heart dipped then soared as he stepped to the other side of Hyacinthe's body, and grasped him, forearm to forearm.

"Much good plying me with wine would do, with what our Phèdre has in mind."

Hyacinthe laughed, then, and the sound warmed the stone walls of the room, making it less like a prison and more like a home. He pulled the two of us toward the great canopied bed.

Before he put a knee on the mattress, Joscelin leaned over to snuff out the candle. I caught his arm - I wanted us to be bathed in light, and would that we could be forever. Instead, he pulled me close, and I felt his body, lean and long, ease between Hyacinthe and I. The candlelight trembled, and we three began to find the way we fit, on this first and last night together.


End file.
